


Sorry About the Tree

by jumpersandtrenchesandleatherjackets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, sorry about the tree love story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4886095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpersandtrenchesandleatherjackets/pseuds/jumpersandtrenchesandleatherjackets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a beautiful tree, and, beneath it, a beautiful man. There was just one problem: Neither belonged in Castiel Novak's yard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry About the Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little Destiel drabble to assure you that I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth. This was a prompt given to me by the Ao3 tag generator. It is also blatantly obvious that I suck at writing kisses. Anyways, on with the show. Enjoy!

 

There was a tree in Castiel Novak’s yard. It was a lovely cherry blossom, with pale pink flowers beginning to bloom, which made it stand out considerably. The blossoms created a stunning contrast against the dead yellow grass Castiel couldn't be bothered to take care of. Underneath this tree was a man. Sweat rolled down his skin. His t-shirt clung to his body, outlining his muscular forearms. He reminded Castiel of a heroic and kind lumberjack, even if his jeans were ripped and his t-shirt featured AC/DC. It was a beautiful tree, and beneath it, a beautiful man. But there was one problem: neither belonged in Castiel's yard.

 

 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Castiel called out, running down his porch steps. His bare feet hit the dead grass, itchy and coarse, but it barely registered that he was barefoot, much less still in his pajamas.

 

“Just finishing putting in the tree you ordered,” the man replied, digging his shovel down into the dirt and leaning against it. “Name’s Dean.” He grinned at Castiel, stopping him in his tracks. The man was even more beautiful up close. The combination of the boyish smile and confusing situation obliterated any articulation Castiel had left.

 

 

“You've, what-? I didn't-” he stammered, gesturing toward the tree.

 

“I know, she’s a real beaut, isn't she? I’m almost done.” Dean’s voice was cheery, but Castiel caught the sidelong glance the man had given him, as if he were the crazy one.

 

He took a deep breath. “Look, sir, I didn't order a tree.”

 

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You didn't? I’m sorry, but isn't this house 1047?”

 

Castiel sighed. “No, it’s 1041.” He glanced at his mailbox, on which he had scrawled his house number when the sign had broken. He hadn't bothered to replace it, which he was beginning to regret. He did suppose that in his handwriting, the 1 did look an awful lot like a 7. Still, this was ridiculous. There was a _tree_ in his front yard.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, man,” Dean apologized as he began rubbing his neck. “I’ll, uh, I’ll dig this back out, no problem.”

 

“Thank you,” Castiel sighed in relief. Now that the situation was taken care of, he felt a bit awkward berating this worker while standing in his yard, in his pajamas, in the middle of the day. He wasn't sure if he should retreat to the safety of his home or say something else to the man, who had promptly gotten to work.

 

Dean had noticed his hesitance, and stopped digging. He looked at Castiel expectantly. Still Castiel said nothing. Dean flashed him another smile, this time an apologetic one. “Sorry about the tree,” he chuckled. “This kind of thing doesn't happen too often.”

 

Castiel nodded. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Yeah, well, I can’t say my boss will be as cool about it.” Dean muttered as he began digging again. “Although, I should have figured it out on my own.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

Dean dumped his shovelful of dirt on the ground.“Well, no offense, but this tree doesn't exactly match your yard.”

 

Castiel smiled, and folded his arms in front of him as he scanned the rest of his yard. “It does look a little out of place.”

 

“Just a bit,” Dean agreed. “This is honestly the worst kept yard I have ever seen.” This time, Castiel actually laughed out loud.

 

“Yeah, well, it’s not permanent.”

 

“No?”

 

Castiel paused. Was this man actually interested in his life, or just making polite chit chat? He honestly couldn't tell. “No," he responded simply. "Nothing’s permanent.”

 

“Ah, so you’re the philosophical type. Gotcha.” Dean shrugged his shoulders. “If you don’t wanna tell me, that’s fine. I’m just the freak who can’t read house numbers. I don’t even know your name.”

 

Castiel cleared his throat. “It’s Castiel.”

 

“Cas-tee-el,” Dean said uncertainly, enunciating each syllable. He repeated it a few more times under his breath. “Um, you mind if I just call you Cas?”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“Great,” Dean smiled again. “And now that I know your name, I’m no longer the freak who can’t read house numbers. So, you can tell me.”

 

A part of Castiel wanted to tell Dean everything. Everything about his life and his sister and the rest of his family and his questions and his doubts and his fears and everything. But sharing things like that would be more than enough to drive the man away. And, for some reason, he didn't want that.

 

Castiel shrugged his shoulders, doing his best to be nonchalant. "I’d like to move away soon. There’s nothing really for me here.”

 

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I get it. I’m here for my little brother. Just graduated from Stanford, the nerd. Full out lawyer.” He paused. “You got any siblings, Cas?”

 

Castiel’s breath hitched. He had asked the question. Probably the one question that Castiel did not want to talk to this man about right then. The one, that, if any, would definitely scare the man away. “Yes,” Castiel replied hesitantly. “More than I'd like. But your brother, why would he come to this backwater town? It's not exactly the best place for a lawyer to be.”

 

“Backwater? Lawrence is our home,” Dean said. “It’s been awhile since we've been.”

 

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean-"

 

Dean chuckled. "It's okay. Small towns aren't for everyone."

 

“So, you plan on staying here for long?” Castiel asked as he looked away, trying not to seem too curious. He stared at the company truck parked beside the curb. _Garth's Green Gardens_ , it read.

 

“Maybe. If you had something here, would you stay?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel answered, a little too quickly. He coughed awkwardly. “You seem to care a lot about your brother,” he stated, changing the subject.

 

“More than anything,” Dean replied without hesitation.

 

“So if he decided to leave...you would follow him?”

 

“Probably.”

 

“Even if you had a girlfriend or a...significant other?”

 

“Someone I really liked? Then no, I would stay with them, I guess.” Castiel’s heart started pounding even faster. Dean had said _them_. Not _her_. So maybe, just maybe, he had a chance.

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

Castiel shrugged. “Just curious.” There was a slight lull in the conversation, and Castiel felt awkward. He felt he should say something, keep the man talking, but nothing came to mind. Of course, he wanted to ask Dean everything there was to know about him, but Castiel didn't want to seem pushy or prying. He was about to speak when Dean gave a slight chuckle.

 

“You know, I probably won’t ever finish digging this up if we keep talking,” Dean joked.

 

“Oh,” Castiel recoiled. He had been so stupid. This guy was just trying to do his job, not get poorly hit on by a random stranger. “Of course. I’ll just...get out of your way, then.”

 

“No, no,” Dean said. “That’s not what I meant. I like talking to you. Honest. You’re a bit distracting, that’s all.”

 

A silence fell over them. Castiel was thankful he never truly blushed, or he would have been beet red at those words. He scratched awkwardly at the stubble on his face instead.

 

Dean looked down and resumed digging. “It’s a hot one today,” he commented, changing the subject.

 

“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “Would you, um like something to drink?” He gestured towards his house. “I have lemonade, I believe. I mean, heat stroke is a real issue.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “That’d be great.”

 

Castiel nodded and went back inside his house. A quick search of his fridge resulted in a bit of panic. Empty. No lemonade, much less any other drink. Or any real food item. He cursed his inability to remember to go shopping. The cupboards were just as disappointing. Not even a mix. For anything. What was wrong with him?

 

“Okay,” he breathed. “Water it is.” He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and set it on the counter. He went to the freezer for ice, only to discover the tray had not been refilled.

 

“Dammit,” he muttered. “This is ridiculous.” He grabbed the glass and filled it with water from the sink. He was about to go back outside to offer Dean the meager drink when he noticed the feel of the carpet on his bare feet. He looked down. He was still in his pajamas.

 

“Dammit,” he cursed again. He should change. Castiel sprinted to his bedroom, grabbing the first clean t-shirt and pair of jeans he could find. He yanked off his pajamas and threw on the clothes. He checked his bedroom mirror. His face needed a shave, and his hair was as messy as ever. But it would have to do. His feet were still bare. Socks. He needed socks. And shoes. God, he was a mess. What was this man doing to him?

 

Castiel had never been one to feel nervous, about anything. It was strictly business with most people he met. But this man was tying his stomach in knots, and every word that fell out of Castiel’s mouth made him cringe.

 

He, Castiel Novak, had a _crush_.

 

He sighed, and straightened his shoulders, trying his best to radiate with confidence. Any other day, with any other person, this had been no problem. Now it felt like a thinly veiled facade.

 

Full clothed, he grabbed the glass of water and went back outside. Dean had placed the tree back into the truck. There was a hole where the tree had been.

 

“Here,” Castiel smiled, handing Dean the glass. “I didn't have any lemonade, sorry.”

 

“That’s fine. Thanks, Cas,” he said, taking it in his hand. He gestured towards Castiel’s new clothes. “I kinda liked your pj's, to be honest.”

 

“Yeah, well, I figured the whole neighborhood probably didn't need to see them.”

 

Dean shrugged, and took a sip of the water. He nodded towards the hole in the ground. “I’m almost done here, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” He turned towards the tree, taking another sip of water. He was close, so close to Castiel their shoulders were touching and Cas could almost _smell_ him.

 

Castiel flat out gazed at the man at his side. With the afternoon sun shining on Dean’s face, he looked practically ethereal. His staring had caught the attention of Dean, who turned towards him. They were so close Castiel could count the freckles on the man’s face. And his _eyes_. Castiel could stare forever into those his eyes.

 

The worst, though, was Dean’s lips. So pink and lovely. The top lip was a perfect cupid’s bow, and the way his lips quirked into a smile was enough to stop Castiel’s heart.

 

Castiel couldn't help himself. He leaned in closer, just trying to breathe this man in, to be nearer to him. He stopped in front of Dean’s face, close enough to feel the warm breath on his face. Then Dean leaned in, closing the space between their lips.

 

Castiel almost froze in surprise. They were _kissing_. Following suit, he began kissing Dean back. It was a gentle, unsure kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. Dean’s lips moved with his. Castiel had to smile as he caressed Dean's face, grazing his fingers over the man's skin.

 

The glass fell to the ground as Dean ran his fingers through Castiel's hair. Dean had a bit of scruff on his face as well, and Castiel liked the way it felt against his skin. Everything just felt _right_.

 

A car honked in the distance, reminding the men they weren't alone. Castiel felt Dean pull away. Breathless, Castiel opened his eyes.

 

“That was, um…” Dean said, unable to find the right words. His lips were even pinker from the kiss.

 

Suddenly Castiel felt very stupid. What was he doing, kissing this man? "I'm sorry, that was...inappropriate." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

 

"Yeah, a bit," Dean chuckled. "But no, it was...it was good."

 

"I should leave you to it," Castiel said. "I have some work to do, and so do you, so..." Castiel stooped to pick up the fallen glass and retreated to his house. Mentally kicking himself, Castiel watched Dean finish the work from his window. He wanted to pull away, to not wait by the door like a pining, lovesick puppy. He couldn't focus on anything else. He was drawn to the window. He watched Dean work. Without Castiel bothering him, Dean finished rather quickly.

 

o0o o0o o0o

 

Knowing he had to say something, anything to Dean, Castiel left the safety of his house and returned into his front yard. At the sound of the door opening, Dean looked up at Castiel with a small smile. “That’s it,” Dean said, as he pat down the pile of dirt that had been put back in its proper place. Castiel stared at the freshly dug up ground. He knew what this meant.

 

“I suppose you’ll be leaving now.” This was his last chance to say something to Dean.

 

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure my boss would chew me out if I stayed.”

 

"Garth?"

 

"No, he's kind of a pushover. His wife's the one with the temper."

 

"Oh." Castiel nodded. “I’ll see you around.” He wanted to say something, talk about the kiss that happened between them, but was at a loss for words.

 

Dean seemed to hesitate, but he just climbed back into the company truck and started the engine. He gave Castiel a little wave as he pulled out from the curb and into the street. And Castiel watched as the truck drove down the road and eventually out of sight.

 

o0o o0o o0o

 

Days trudged by, and the grass began to regrow on the mound of dirt. Castiel had to admit that it looked rather ridiculous, compared to the dead grass surrounding it. Honestly, he thought his yard looked better with the cherry blossom tree.

 

Although not just with the cherry blossom, but with Dean, too. Both had begun to grow on him. He could picture them being together, dating, kissing, doing a bit more. If only he hadn't screwed everything up. He shook his head, trying to clear all the "what ifs" from his mind. It didn't work. The thoughts were vultures, circling his mind and eating the remains of any rationality he had. Castiel just wanted to be with, or even near, Dean.

 

 _That’s ridiculous,_ he chastised himself. He had barely even spoken to Dean. A couple hours together and now, days later, he was missing the man? Castiel prided himself in thinking he was a rational man, but now he wasn't so sure. His feelings, he decided, needed to be put to an end.

 

He continued to tell himself this as he got on his computer and searched for a particular website. There was a number to call at the top of the screen. Castiel picked up his phone, dialing the numbers with care. He put the phone to his ear and listened to the dial tone while trying to stay calm. He couldn't. He was about to hang up the phone when someone answered.

 

“Hello, Garth's Green Gardens, how can I help you?” answered a gruff voice.

 

“Hello,” Castiel replied. “I would like to order a tree.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment and review. Your feedback is crucial to me! I hope you enjoy, and, as always, I would love if you wanted to talk to me. My tumblr url is http://how-do-i-choose.tumblr.com. Thanks!


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